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ninthcircleofprythian · 4 months

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Dinner and Dessert

Azriel x Pregnant! OC (Mira)

Word Count - 3.6k

Summary - as his mate's due date approaches, Az can't handle the sight of her pregnant body in a sundress without going a bit feral.

Warnings - light swearing, pregnancy, descriptions of pregnant body, breeding k!ink (if you squint), tons of sexual tension, explicit sex described (oral f recieving, fingering f recieveing, p in v)

Author's Note - This fic was written for being the clear winner of this poll. Also, a special dedication to my fellow monkey brain @chairofchaos for being with me every step of the way as I wrote this and for being so very strong and not allowing me to spoil it as it came together. Enjoy pookie. 😘

“We really should have planned this out better you know,” Mira’s voice echoed through the entryway as she descended the stairs. The shadows made a swirling lap around her body as she landed on the last step, Azriel gliding from the living room doorway to meet her.

“Planned what out better, my love?”

“Being this pregnant in the middle of summer,” she sighed. “Nothing fits anymore and I’m constantly hot. I swear I’m carrying a tiny furnace in here at this point.” Mira’s hands slid over the large swell of her belly, tucking the drape of her dress under it as she cradled the weight from below.

Azriel’s eyes tracked the movement, flaring with heat when her hands found their resting place. The roundness of her belly on full display in the flowing fabric.

“That dress,” his voice rumbled, eyes lingering along her frame as his wings gave a slight tremble.

“Like I said, nothing fits anymore,” his mate twisted her lips in a pout. “The options are limited.” Releasing the hold on her stomach, Mira brought her hands up to the neckline, tugging it back to a more conservative height.

In a flash, Az’s hand stilled hers as he stepped closer, chest pressing against her exposed shoulder as he stood at her side. With his other hand, he replaced the hold she had along the bottom of that beautiful mound. The thin summer weight fabric allowed her to feel every ridge along his palm as it slid into place and she shivered in his hold from the sensation.

“I’m not complaining,” Az whispered as he bent to nuzzle along that dangerously low neckline. “But if you aren’t comfortable, you could always take it off.” With a tilt of his head, he peeked up from her cleavage that was threatening to spill out with a darkened stare.

“Azriel, stop,” she giggled with a push against his shoulder. “We’re going to be late.”

“It’s fine,” came his mumbled reply from between her generous breasts. “Let’s be late.” One of his hands now slipped to the small of her back, the curvature deepened with the weight she now carried. A low groan sounded from his chest.

Az had always loved his mate’s body. Every soft spot and curve and blemish. But something about the last months, watching everything about it change and grow with his child growing inside her, made him insatiable. The dress she was now wearing with the hem dancing along her feet and the waistline settling on the top of that bump, was the final straw. He was done for.

Just as he began to bend at the knee to scoop her into his arms, she shoved against him once more. “Azriel, seriously. Stop,” she laughed. “This is probably the last family dinner I’ll be able to go to for a while. I want to go. I don’t want to be late.”

“Ok,” he sulked momentarily. “You’re right. To dinner we shall go then.” He gestured widely with his arm towards the door in a mocking tease. “But you know we could spare some time if you would just let me winnow us there.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I would prefer not to lose my appetite before dinner, thank you.” Ever since the pregnancy had neared its end, she couldn’t stomach winnowing any longer. The short step through the dark felt like more of a lurch and left her heaving afterwards and Az was entirely too nervous to fly with her in this state. “Besides, it's nice out - even if it is hot.”

“Fine. But we aren’t staying for dessert.” With a devilish grin, Azriel stooped to kiss his mate’s pouty lips. The hand along her back swept lower and with a start he pulled back, staring into her eyes with a look of shock.

“What?” she questioned with a furrowed brow.

“Mira, my love, are you –,” his hand explored a handful of her backside. “Are you not wearing any underwear?”

“Oh. Yeah,” she started as she made her way towards the door with a smug smile. “Those don’t fit anymore either.”

She let out another giggle as Azriel grumbled behind her, scrubbing one large hand down his face. “You’re fucking killing me.”

Thankfully, the walk to the River House was short enough that Mira wasn’t completely worn out. The entire way over she couldn’t help smiling as she noticed Azriel casually falling behind a few steps so he could get a long hard look at her backside as she walked. She may or may not have put a little more swagger in her already unsteady gait just for fun.

As she approached the front door, Azriel sidled up to her again. His hand slipped over her butt before settling low on her back, his fingers gently rubbing. Before she could even reach for the door handle, his other hand was once again cradling the underside of her protruding belly.

“What is with you today?,” she chuckled, nudging him with her shoulder.

“I can’t help it,” he smiled against her neck as he licked at the sheen of sweat that had gathered there. “You. This dress. Your beautiful belly with my baby inside. When I hold you like this, it feels like I’m holding my entire world in my hands.” He gave her a gentle tug as he settled his body closer, his hard length pressing through his clothing into her hip. Soft lips traveled up the side of her neck before nibbling at her earlobe. “It just does something to me,” he whispered.

“Az, honey,” Mira sang sweetly. “I’m starving.”

“Ok,” he said as he moved to stand behind her, his insistent hardness now pressing into her plump backside.

“We should go in.”

“Ok,” he mumbled against the back of her neck, hands now skimming over the flare of her hips.

“I need to open the door to do that.”

“Ok,” he whispered along one shoulder as both hands now cradled her belly.

With a gentle lift he took the weight and shifted upward. The strain in her back instantly felt relief and the ache in her hips eased. The noise that left her was entirely involuntary as her hands gripped over his arms.

“Oooh, that feels so good,” she practically moaned and she felt his length twitch against her.

With a nip at her exposed shoulder, Az released his own sinful noise. “That is a very dangerous thing to say right about now.”

She didn’t even get the chance to respond as suddenly the door flung open.

“I thought I heard someone out here,” Rhys said with a smirk, his violet eyes twinkling. “Dinner is ready if you are staying.”

“Yes, please,” Mira laughed as Rhys turned to head back inside and she moved to follow him. Azriel held back for just a moment as he adjusted himself outside on the doorstep.

Family dinner moved at a leisurely pace, much as it always did. Mira was in her element enjoying the conversation and food, laughing animatedly with their table mates. The night moved much too leisurely for Azriel however. He had begun the night with gentle touches, unable to keep his hands off his glowing mate. A hand along her thigh under the table, arm slung over the chair back caressing her shoulder with his fingertips, soft lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered to her.

Now, the touches were much more insistent and his leg bounced anxiously the entire time. A firm squeeze to her knee as Mira shifted in her seat, a sharp nibble to her shoulder as he tucked a pillow behind her back, a rough graze of his knuckles along her hip reminding him that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Like he needed the reminder. It was all he could think about.

As the conversation died down and the plates were cleared away, Mira stood stretching out her aching back. Instantly, Azriel was at her side, one arm slipping around her waist as he began ushering her towards the door.

“Az, slow down,” she huffed out a laugh as he fought to keep his strides from outpacing hers.

“I made chocolate torte,” Elain’s musical voice announced from the dining room behind them.

“Ooooh,” Mira sighed as she twisted out of Az’s hold before he could flare out a wing to stop her. “Chocolate!”

She didn’t even make it a single step in the opposite direction before one scarred hand encircled her wrist. With a tender tug, she was spun back around into her mate’s arms and pressed tight to his chest. A protest bubbled in her throat but before she could voice it, Azriel drowned it out with a hard sweeping kiss.

Relaxing against him, she felt the hand gripping the back of her head tighten as his tongue dove in, finding its way to hers. Tangling and twisting, the kiss deepened. With a reluctant groan, Az pulled his face back and gazed into his mate’s eyes gauging her reaction.

Mira noted it had gone eerily quiet as he had kissed her. Suddenly she understood why. They were no longer standing in the River House foyer, but instead in their own shared bedroom.

“I thought if I distracted you first it wouldn’t make you sick,” Azriel smirked a sly grin.

“It worked,” she said breathlessly, flashing hot all over for reasons other than the weather.

His lopsided smile grew as he watched the color flood her face. Bending, he scooped his mate up in his arms and with one large step moved to the bed, depositing her squarely in the middle.

Before she could get her elbows underneath herself to sit up some, he was tearing at his clothing. Belt ripped from his waistband followed quickly by his pants.

“Don’t move,’ he warned in a sultry tone as he watched her trying to pull herself up. The buttons of his shirt met their demise as they popped off with a tug.

Mira giggled as she heard them pop and hit the floor somewhere in the room. “I’m not even undressed.”

“Keep it on,” Azriel growled.

Pulling her elbows from beneath herself, she fell back on the bed, watching as he began to crawl toward her. His large hand quickly found the hem of her dress that was now pushed up around her knees. Worming its way underneath, his skin met hers and before she knew it he was pushing against the inside of one leg.

She didn’t resist, knees parting as she made room for his body to settle between them. With a quick flutter of fabric, he disappeared, head buried underneath her dress and burrowing between her thighs.

A small sound of surprise squeaked out of her at his quickness, but it was covered immediately with a sharp gasp. In just a couple passes of his tongue, Azriel was at her clit and circling that sensitive bud. The grip on her hips increased as he moaned into her folds, the vibration caused her breath to shudder.

“I thought about this all through dinner,” he rumbled before lapping insistently at her arousal. “You. Completely bare. Ready and waiting for me under this dress.” He accentuated his words with hard passes of his tongue between them.

Mira’s breaths were hardly more than quick pants now as his tongue continued those circles with ferocity. Dipping down to gather more of her arousal along his tongue, she let out a whining moan.

Tongue returning to its task, one hand released her leg and snaked its way to her entrance, fingertips teasing.

“Az,” she whimpered.

Slowly, he began pressing a finger into her core.

“Az, wait,” she panted. “Hold on a second.”

He felt her shifting her hips within his grasp as he flipped her dress off of his head.

“What’s wrong?” His voice carried a hint of panic as he noticed one of her arms cradling her belly.

“I need to move,” she shifted her hips once more in an effort to slide onto her side. “I can’t breathe well on my back like this.”

His panic subdued, he quickly raised himself up into a kneel and helped her to roll more comfortably on her side. Leaning to grab a pillow, he had her lift a bit so he could tuck in beneath her belly for support.

“Better?” he asked with a tender trailing sweep of his hand over her stretched skin.

“Much,” she sighed contented. “You can continue.”

Azriel belted out a ringing laugh. “Gladly, my love.”

Pulling her bottom leg straight out along the bed, he laid himself across the end of the mattress. Mira lifted her top leg as Az laid his head on the pillow of her thigh. Grabbing her lifted leg under the knee, he propped it against his body so that her foot was planted against his ribs before tucking his arm over it.

“Now where was I?” he pondered aloud. “Here?” He lapped one long strip through her folds.

“Or, maybe it was –,” another pass of his tongue had him barely grazing her clit. “Here?”

“Azriel, don’t tease,” she pleaded as she dug her heel into his ribcage.

“Yes, it was here,” he smiled wickedly to himself. With the same quickness as before, Az dove back in like a starved male. Driving his tongue against that throbbing bud, he brought his fingers back to her entrance.

Now able to draw in a full breath, Mira was gasping and moaning with intensity with each flick against her. He couldn’t keep up with the arousal that dripped from her, coating his fingers as he inserted two of them fully.

“Ah! Yes-Az” She cried out loudly, gripping the sheets in front of her face.

Setting a solid steady pace with his hand, he drew her clit between his lips and pulled, creating suction against it as he flicked against it.

Her cries became a scream as the leg propped against him trembled. Pulling his other arm from beneath him, he reached up, gliding his palm along her taut stomach and pressed gently where he knew she felt that familiar tightening sensation.

Her back arched and pressed her belly deeper into his palm. Azriel felt the beginning ripples of her climax roll over his fingers from inside her. With a pull, he curled them.

That’s when all the breath left her. The pressure against that sweet spot inside left her hanging on a gasping cry. Every muscle in her back and legs tensed in unison as that white hot pleasure crashed through her.The intense clench of her walls pulsed over his fingers. The sweeping ripple through her belly against his palm made him pant out in surprise. As she came down from that peak, Az gave one light pass of his tongue over her clit, feeling her jolt against him before pulling his face back and slowly withdrawing his fingers.

Easing her leg from over his body, he brought himself up and curled his body around her from behind. Sweeping her hair away from her neck, Az nestled his lips against her heated skin, the tips of his fingers trailing lightly over her side. Mira was still slowing her labored breath as she pressed a palm to the side of her clothed belly.

“Does it hurt?” Az asked with a slightly worried tone.

“No,” she sighed contentedly. “It was just - intense.” She let out a satisfied hum as his palm replaced hers, finding that tight muscle with ease.

Wiggling deeper into the mattress, she felt his still adamant hardness pressed against her. “What are you thinking about back there?” She laughed, arching her butt against him.

“You already know the answer to that,” he said gruffly into her neck. After a beat of pause he brought his lips to the shell of her ear. “What are you thinking about?”

He felt her tremble as his breath coasted over that sensitive spot and he couldn’t resist giving it a teasing lick as well.

“Mmm,” she groaned, pushing back against him harder. “I’m thinking about – chocolate.” Her merry laugh rang through the space as Az huffed his own amusement against her temple. “Among other things,” she said in a low tone. Reaching her arm back, she grazed her nails along his hip, the brush of her skin causing him to buck against her involuntarily.

“Help me,” she said as her hand left his hip and grabbed the fabric bunched around her hips. “It’s too hot for this.”

Pushing into a kneel once more, Az helped her maneuver the dress from her body, revealing more and more of her full frame as he did. Tossing the dress to the floor, he paused for a moment, kneeling behind her bent knees in awe.

Fully exposed and still laying on her side, every voluptuous asset was on full display. His hands explored the access this position afforded him. Every curve that drove him wild easily reached. Her heavy breasts that filled his palms, her ample ass that jiggled when he grabbed it, her firm belly that held their child within. His child.

With a teasing bite to her luscious thigh, Az once again pulled her lower leg straight before straddling his legs over it. Grabbing her other ankle, he wrapped her leg around his waist, holding it firmly above his hip bone.

Shifting closer, he notched his length against her exposed entrance. His hand smoothly followed the curve of her butt before dipping into the arc of her lower back. That deepened well, strained with the weight of the child she carried left him powerless.

As he pushed his hips against her arousal slicked core and entered her fully, Mira moaned. And Azriel whimpered.

He had known all along that this moment would be his undoing. He had ensured that she received her pleasure first and foremost before he buried himself in her warmth knowing that he was unlikely to hold out. As his hips found their rhythm, he folded himself over, nuzzling at her breast with a moan.

The tight pull of his climax was building in intensity with each thrust. He held back his need to drive himself harder, relishing in the pleasure of his soft rhythm. Mira’s arm snaked under his chest attempting to reach between her parted thighs. With her belly in the way, she couldn’t find purchase against the aching need that pulsed there. Lifting up slightly, Az threw her arm over his shoulder and replaced her reach with his own, thumb dancing deliciously against her clit.

She began writhing underneath him, her quiet pants and sultry moans building in intensity until he felt her fluttering around him. He no longer held back, pushing himself desperately into her with a snap of his hips. Her arm grasped against his back, scratching at the space between his wings.

“Az. Az. Az,” she moaned breathlessly with each thrust he gave. He couldn’t bring himself to produce any sound in return, every bit of his energy concentrated on the feeling of her walls constricting his twitching length. Another thrust and she was coming apart beneath him, clenching hard around him. One more and his own release was barreling through him.

Her name left his lips in a cry. Every pulse of release stole his breath further until he collapsed on top of her gasping for air.

Moments passed as they collected their breath before Az shifted into a roll carefully avoiding landing his weight on his mate’s belly and settled in front of her. Her middle pressed against his own, his hand swept tenderly back and forth over it. Her eyes slipped closed and her breath evened out into the quiet pattern of almost sleep.

“Tired?” he asked, brushing the hair from her face.

“Mhm,” she replied in a sigh, rubbing her cheek into his palm.

Azriel remained as he was, hand cradling her face as he stared at his mate in wonder. His mate. His partner through life. The mother of his child.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he removed his hand and replaced it with a kiss. Mira just gave another throaty noise in response, not bothering to open her eyes.

Some minutes later, Mira was awoken from slumber as Azriel cursed to himself. Popping her eyes open she watched as he stumbled through the bedroom door, arms laden with a tray in one hand and a steaming mug in another. Kicking the door shut behind him with his heel she noticed he was once again fully dressed.

“Where did you go?” she asked sleepily as she pulled herself up to sitting, dragging the blanket Az had left over her up around her chest.

“I felt bad that I made you skip dessert,” he smiled at her as he lowered the tray over her lap. Upon the tray sat half of Elain’s chocolate torte, still in its original pan, two forks laid across the empty half.

“Oh, Azriel,” she brightened with delight, grabbing his face as he bent to place the mug on the tray as well. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” she giggled as she peppered his face with kisses.

Turning back to the tray, she snatched the torte pan and settled it squarely on top of her round belly, digging in expeditiously.

“Mmm,” she moaned, closing her eyes as she savored the rich taste.

“It almost sounds like the chocolate is better than the sex,” Az teased as he climbed into bed next to her.

“Oh,” she laughed. “It’s definitely up there,” she held her thumb and forefinger apart barely touching as she squinted at him. “A very close second I’d say.”

Az released a booming laugh before he too grabbed a fork and settled in for dessert.

#azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #feral az #azriel x oc #azriel x oc smut #azriel x original character #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #pregnant! oc #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acowar #acosf #acotar smut

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lavendertales · 1 year

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traces of beskar || Din Djarin x f!reader**

summary: on a very hot day, you find yourself craving something rather unexpected that has both you and Din equally needy.

word count: 920

warnings (as requested by anon below): face sitting/cunnilingus, male masturbation, further allusions to sex, established relationship.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: feedback is always much appreciated ❤️

You’re not entirely sure how you got in this predicament. Truth be told, the afternoon is pretty hazy to you; all you know with certainty is that making a pit stop near the lava springs had been a necessary evil, and now you’ve been sweating for hours. Even more so when Din fueled up the ship, grunting and cussing under his breath as he did so.

Maybe it was a way to cool off, your subconscious tries to convince you as your hips press down steadily on the metal.

Now, as you find yourself atop of him in the cockpit, naked from the waist down and eagerly grinding down on his helmet, you think maybe this pit stop hadn’t been that terrible.

You’re not even sure why you wanted to do this in the first place. Sure, sitting on Din’s face isn’t a foreign concept at all, but riding his helmet while he can do nothing but knead the flesh of your ass till it bruises and watches your slick pussy please itself on the beskar certainly is new.

Din is speechless; all he can do is admire the sight, taking it in, and grunt. He’s never felt more constricted by his own armor, but he’s never enjoyed anything more than this. Whenever you moan and reach between your legs to play with your clit, Din grows harder, his own grunts modulated and shaky. This is undoubtedly the best view he has ever had the honor of being blessed with, and he already knows he’s gonna want to do this again and again. It’s lewd, borderline obscene and filthy, and yet his mouth waters uncontrollably, more so at the thought of you getting off on a piece of him. His tongue lunges forward in a feeble attempt to taste, but he only senses beskar. He could see you clenching almost, and it’s debilitating to be so close, yet so far.

His hand reaches past the waistband of his pants, almost gasping as he hastily pulls all fabrics down and takes himself in hand.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you whimper.

You picked up the pace, probably having found the right rhythm to treat your neediest spot. His grunts are concomitant with yours and the sounds emerging from both of you are a mixture of erotic, dirty, needy, anything you can possibly think of, it’s right here, locked in this moment.

There is only so much a man can take, however. Fucking his own hand is both incredible and insufficient. So he chooses the next best thing.

Gloved hands harshly grab your hips, lifting you off the helmet.

“Din, please—“

“Shh.”

“I want—“

“I know what you want, cyare, me too. Just give me a second.”

“I was close.”

You’re on the verge of crying in frustration but you gasp out loud when the rather cold beskar is replaced by lips. The realization that Din has you pressed against his face is dawning on your, sending electric waves down your spine. His mouth is a hot furnace against your pussy, and when he grabs your ass again, moving you more against him, you surrender any power of control you ever had the illusion of holding.

“Oh m-my—Din—“

His tongue is lapping dutifully against your folds, his nose nudging your clit, and you desperately need something to grab onto, but there’s nothing. There’s nothing but you and him and this moment of desperate need of ecstasy.

For a while, the only sounds echoing in the ship are ragged breaths, shaky moans and a faint glib noise emerging from in between your legs. Sweat drips down the small of your back, your mind emptied of all thoughts besides Din’s skilled mouth, and your body cries, aches for him. He’s working you open like no trace of beskar ever could, and this you both know. His helmet lies somewhere to the side, thrown hastily and carelessly in Din’s chase of goodness. Sometimes you think that being able to feel him like this, so intimately and up-close, is far more important and personal than seeing his face.

“Din—!”

You try to warn, but he only grabs your ass cheeks tighter, thus pressing you down on his face even more—if possible—and rides out your orgasm. You ride his face shamelessly, seizing on his mouth as waves of pleasure rip through you. The force of your orgasm takes you out, making it too debilitating to make any sound or to open your eyes while Din’s tongue keeps lapping at your core, collecting every ounce of arousal he can find. He’s insatiable when it comes to you, almost feral, and the thought alone can make you come again.

“Hmm—“you hear him mumble in between your legs, almost as if he’s smacking his lips together on purpose. “No better taste.”

You chuckle. “You okay down there?”

“Cyare, I could drown here and it’d be the best day of my life.”

Flustered, you suppress your chuckle this time and reach around to find his cock out of its confinements, hard as it can be. When you wrap your hand around it, Din winces.

“Let’s take care of you now, shall we?” you tease.

You barely start to jerk him off when you’re being maneuvered so that you’re on the floor, with Din atop of you.

“Later,” Din groans as his own hand is wrapped around his erection, guiding it to your swollen folds. “I wanna feel you come on my cock this time.”

tags: @pedrostories

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ladytemeraire · 6 months

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One of my older coworkers is basically the Weird But Cool Uncle of our department. He'll collect the entire group of co-ops/interns and take them down to the cafeteria for ice cream, he'll take you out and teach you how to shoot or change a tire or whatever you need and want to learn, he'll randomly show up whenever you need help (as long as you ask) with a trailer to help you move or power tools to fix whatever needs fixing, and all he asks in return is some gratitude and maybe that you buy him a pizza or donuts at some point. He helped me move from my apartment to my house two years ago. When my furnace went out after Thanksgiving last year, he showed up with a bunch of tools to see if he could quickly fix it before the repair company showed up and/or I needed it to be replaced.

Anyway, I mentioned to him today that I was considering a small sawzall and/or chainsaw to deal with saplings growing by my garage and back fence and the resultant lumber on my property (since I have a fire pit in the backyard, might as well make use of it) and he immediately messaged me with "cool, here's the brands you want to consider, let me know what size you get so I can make sure I have the same size chain/blade to match in case yours breaks so I can give you one of mine" and y'all, I damn near cried in the middle of the work day at such a casual expression of community and solidarity and connection. It's so rare that someone who isn't family (and even if they are family in some cases) will casually set you up for success like that and I am so, so grateful to have him in my life.

He also showed up after work today to help me deal with said saplings and helped me hack off a bunch of wild grapevine while we were at it, so I'm definitely gonna buy him lunch this week.

#life with ladytemeraire #the details of being human #people being people #mutual aid

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pianostrings · 4 months

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Rebel Moon: The Scargiver Novelization!!

Contains spoilers for Rebel Moon Part II: The Scargiver under the cut:

Opens with Noble being revived. Cassius is informed of a list of approved "bio-enhancements" that will change his "biology on a molecular level". Cassius ponders whether he has chosen the right person to throw his lot behind (spoiler alert: he has not).

Kora and Gunnar's sex scene is expanded on 😌

(This is also super nit-picky but the tense in the sex scene changes from past to present and it really bothers me haha)

Flashbacks to Kora's time at court. Word of Balisarius's butchery as a general reaches the king and the king chews him out with Kora present. Rather than punishing him, the King makes him a senator instead.

Balisarius invites Kora to his villa, which is apparently filled with only pictures of himself in various suits of armor in battle (this is so on brand, I’m crying). He calls her Kora, which I thought was odd, since she was re-named Arthelais? Not sure whether this is a typo or not.

Kora watches Balisarius perform his first speech as a senator. It's a passionate anti-immigration speech ❤️ goes over really well with everyone except the King and Queen. Kora is initially concerned about his use of wording: "darkness" from "the outer worlds" but then she thinks, hey it's cool! I'm not from one of those ugly places anymore.

In the palace gardens, Balisarius reveals he will be Regent Militarium one day and Kora will replace the princess. She is much concerned. She and Issa have a cute smiling moment, which is sweet, because I’m sure nothing bad will happen to her.

Something bad happens to her. Kora has no clue the assassination is taking place until everyone is being stabbed. Princess Issa gets a moment to sass Balisarius but Kora does, unfortunately, still shoot her.

THE KALI ARE EXPLAINED. At the core of every dreadnought, an ancient female humanoid is kept in a half-conscious state, bodies hardwired to the ship to drain them of their energy. They are fed the organic matter of conquered worlds, which is what is shovelled into the furnaces (not magical space coal).

Cassius recalls how Noble's first campaign out of the Academy was disastrous and that he would never have come back from it if he wasn’t from a military family from Moa.

LIVE REACTION FROM DEN as Kora and Gunnar take the walk of shame together. He is CRESTALLEN, friends. Tarak and Titus giggle like schoolboys at Kora and Gunnar's appearance (why was this not left in the film? Incredible team building stuff).

Tarak has the audacity to claim bundling grain is "women's work". Oh you precious royal boy. He has a love interest, Hervor, and she is a MILF. Good for them both.

Eljun is Nemesis's biggest fanboy as the kids argue over which of the rebels is the strongest. Eljun is confident in Nemesis. This is so sweet. I’m sure nothing bad will happen to her either!

Kora likes Gunnar more than any of the lovers she'd taken on other campaigns because he makes her laugh. Oh. 🥹

Aris speaks to Cassius via transmission. Aris quotes a concerning motivational line he attributes to Cassius: "every child screaming... every mother crying..." ⁉️ Cassius tells him that line originates from Balisarius, actually (of course it fucking does.)

In the background, Noble has clued on that Aris has betrayed them and wishes he killed him along with his sisters. They wait for information from the Hawkshaws.

At dinner, Milius and Hagen have a sweet moment where they talk about their own past, in a similar village.

ARIS KISSES SAM 💋

The team have their backstories moment. There’s a tad more detail in Titus and Milius’s backstories

Noble has a flashback after his failed campaign, which is upseting because 1) Cassius wasn't with him and 2) his father, Dominic, is pissed. He is sent to the Vori, a gangster planet, where he remains as a guest, shadowing the warlord, Gregor. He passes a test where he kills a Motherworld noble and is given the tattoo near his eye. He also meets the twins for the first time. Deep lore here. Deep deep lore.

Tarak hooks up with Hervor the MILF. This r-rated cut is just going to be everyone going at eachother.

Jimmy kills the Hawkshaws, just as they're about to tell Cassius about Kora's dropship.

We get some backstory about the Hawkshaws. They are the Anuran species and their home planet is Anura. When the Imperium attacked their world, they put up a good fight and the Admiral in charge of the invasion offered an alliance, by offering their skills to the Imperium.

Kora gets to sass Noble a bit before the battle

R.I.P. Den. Gone too soon. Noble’s bio-enhancements come in handy during this fight.

There's so much swearing during the battle—Milius tells a soldier to 'fuck right off, motherfucker—it’s poetry and I really hope this is all in the R version.

The Kali speaks to Kora!!! It forgives her, like Issa, because it knows one day she will "wake [her] sisters and their wrath will be [the Kali's] vengeance. Yesss queens 👏🏼 it’s giving inter-galactic feminism

Kora kills the gunnery crew and redirects the turrets to the conning tower where Noble and Cassius are. Noble legs it for the elevator and abandons the crew. Cassius is right behind him but Noble 😮 shoots him in the face.

Nemesis gifts her daughter's pendant to Eljun as she dies. Her death is a "final act of love and comfort." 😢

Aris joins in the battle and kills a guard, avenging his family.

Kora blows up the engines and beheads Noble. No further resurrections for Ed Skrein, it appears.

Gunnar and Kora 🥹

"[Kora] looked back up to the burning fields of Veldt and the rising smoke. The cost of rebellion is always loss. The legacy is freedom and dignity."

The team assemble! Devra apologies to Kora for arriving late and says that her “brother was right” (assuming this is a throwback to Darrian wanting to take the rebellion more public)

A young Veldtian girl sings a ballad at the funeral pyre

The last scene is of Balisarius being dressed. We finally get the "I do love this part" line from the trailer. He is told of the destruction of The King's Gaze and surmises it was Kora's doing. Hundreds of thousands of Imperium soldiers chant his name as he prepares to hunt her down.

Additional Notes:

Ok more thoughts now I’ve had time to reflect on the text:

- I can see why this novelization release was pushed back. I don’t know what the deadline was like for the author but it felt very rushed and the writing is… not great… at times. The romance was, in particular, pretty cringe.

- Aris and Devra Bloodaxe felt very sidelined here. I thought Aris would at least have an unpacking his past moment with someone? Devra just turns up and we don’t learn anything about where she’s been or the Base One she returns to at the end of part 1? I also thought we might get more Darrian (or how the Bloodaxes operate) through Milius’s flashbacks.

- I don’t love the characterisation of any of the villains. Balisarius comes across cartoonishly evil and it’s hard to pinpoint any kind of affection Kora has for him in her flashbacks, other than maybe loyalty through self-preservation. Noble veers a little too close into bumbling idiot territory. Cassius’s POVis baffling and he spends way too much time worrying about Noble trying to challenge Balisarius, which doesn’t seem remotely believable

- I kind of thought Milius and Tarak were going to end up together? Or that they at least had some kind of friendship, but they seem to barely interact. In fact, it feels like we see the least of Milius out of the rebels

- Hagen and Kora should have had more moments TBH. Feel like she needed that positive comparative father figure

- The ending makes it sound like Kora is completely done with Veldt and she’s ready to move on now that there’s nothing there for her. I guess this works if the team are now off on a quest across the galaxy to save the princess but it also seems a bit… blunt

#rebel moon #the scargiver #rebel moon spoilers #rebel moon novelization

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furnacerepair7 · 3 days

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swanheating · 1 year

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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 year

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Love and War

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Synopsis: Bob Floyd never expected to fall in love during the war, especially not with a pretty, young nurse during basic training. But love works in funny ways and can their love stand the rest of time, the war and the distance that separates them. Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+.

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Ardennes Offensive - Bastogne December 1944

On the silver screen, John Wayne dressed in his Naval whites and Marlene Dietrich conversed, their figures dancing across the cracked wall as the projector shone the bright light onto it. Bob’s eyes followed the moving pictures thoughtlessly, his mind too busy with the prospect of a weekend with his wife. (Y/n) was currently stationed at a hospital near Paris, to Bob’s great relief. It meant that she was safe, she was reasonably out of harm's way. Miller and Jackson sat on either side of him, both their eyes trained on the makeshift movie screen.

“This film sucks, I’ve seen it before,” Jackson grumbled, earning a harsh shhh from the paratroopers in front of him. Jackson snapped his mouth shut, sinking into his chair with a pout on his young face. The lights above their head flickered on, the movie coming to a stop as two Lieutenants marched down between the aisles of chairs, ignoring the protests gc from the men. Lieutenant Nelson, who had been sat to the left of Bob, had his lips set in a hard, thin line, eyebrows furrowed as if he knew the impending doom that was going to be thrust upon them.

“Elements of the 1st and the 6th Panzer division have broken through in the Ardennes forest. Now they have broken through the 28th infantry and elements of the 4th. All officers report to respective HQs, all passes are cancelled.” A loud eruption of complaints filled the hall, all cursing, swearing, and praying to god. Bob felt his heart sink into his stomach, feeling the letter he'd written to y/n nestled in his breast pocket, waiting to be sent. He’d been relieved to see her again in Paris, while the other men were excited to blow some cash all he wanted to do was hold her close and know that for just that moment she was safe.

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The trucks tumbled along the dark roads, rocking back and forth over potholes and shaking the paratroopers that occupied them. The men huddled together in a desperate attempt to share their warmth, the frigid conditions caused a domino effect of shivers. Bob’s breath fanned across his face, icy droplets freezing nearly in mid-air and casting a mist over his face with each exhale. One man was passing a cigarette around, each man taking a long drag before passing it on to the next, the warm smoke filling their lungs, creating a small sense of comfort. The convoy shuddered to a halt and the soldiers hopped out, Bob suppressed a cry as his frozen feet hit the already-frozen ground. Thick snow poured over the edge of his boots, dampening his socks and causing him to shudder. Around them small fires appeared as fellow soldiers poured petrol into holes, lighting them to add some warmth to the glacial landscape, small furnaces of hope amongst the dismay atmosphere.

“I’m freezing my ass off already,” Jackson grumped, digging his hands deeper into his ODs pockets.

“You and me both,” Albert replied, teeth chattering uncontrollably. Bob just hummed in response, too cold to even find a reply.

“Let’s get moving. We’re in for a cold one, Boys.” Captain Nelson called out, ushering the paratroopers forward.

“But Sir, we’re gonna be surrounded.” A replacement private called out, his uniform new and shiny and he looked youthful, fresh-faced which is something many of the young men had lost.

“We’re paratroopers son, we’re meant to be surrounded.”

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Bright crimson seeped through the once-white crisp sheets, spreading the red stain deep into the fabric. The sheets that just moments before had held a soldier fighting for his life, as (y/n) worked tirelessly to stop the fountain of blood surging from his artery as the medic placed clamps in an attempt to stem the bleeding. It had been so pointless really to try and save him, he was long gone before he reached the medics' tent, his blood strewn across the crisp, white snow outside, but if you don’t try then you don’t know. Each of these men had fought in honour of their country and this man deserved to die safe and somewhat warm rather than in a foxhole in the dark somewhere. Or that’s what she told herself, gathering up the bloody sheets that had dried brown and crispy.

Screams of pain filled the aid station and (y/n) tried her best to block out the agonising wails of the men she passed, as if she could not hear them, as if it were a silent theatre production. When she first arrived in the field she had been left shaken and terrified, but as (y/n) worked and gained confidence as a nurse she grew used to the screams, the agony, the thick iron scent that filled her nostrils and the blood that dried sticky to her hands, the never-ending death that surrounded everyone.

The rain had started about half an hour ago and it echoed above her head on the canvas sheet, much softer than the gunfire just hours before. The sound of shelling in the distance and the occasional flash of gunfire reminded (y/n) of just how close to the battlefield she was, and as she stepped outside the scene of bloodshed continued. The battlefield lay quiet, for it was now a graveyard of the unburied. Their corpses lay among the debris of the battle, deep craters littered the area and the ground was slick with rain and blood. A bitter wind swept across the clearing, causing her to shiver, gritting her teeth as she walked along the risen, wooden platforms to the wash tent. (Y/n) abandoned the bloody sheets with one of her fellow nurses, (y/n) didn’t think she’d be able to remove the stains, but knew she would try. They were running low on supplies, so stained sheets were better than nothing.

(Y/n’s) dress blew around her ankles as she walked back to the aid station, the night would be long and with the continued shelling she knew more casualties would be arriving soon. Taking a moment to stop outside the tent, she leaned against the large wooden pole that supported the air station and sighed. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to breathe in the cold night air, placing a hand on her chest so she could feel the frantic beat of her heart beneath her fingers. Her ragged breaths let out steamy puffs of air into the darkness, rising above her like the smoke from the various fires dotted around the battlefield. (Y/n) moved to the left as another group of soldiers approached the aid station, carrying a wounded comrade between them. She could tell from the way he hung limp in their arms, face pale that he was dead but they hurried past her, fear evident on their faces, but the hint of hope in their eyes driving them forward.

She looked out across the scene of devastation, eyes drifting over the fallen soldiers, discarded weapons and rubble. Her eyes drifted to a figure that was hovering in the tree line, he took a seat beside one of the trees, his back hitting the tree with a thud as he slid down the bark to plant himself by the roots. His shoulders sagged and he was bent over, cradling his head in the palms of his hands. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d last seen Bob since he’d last held her in his arms since he’d last kissed her. It had been just two months since their wedding and yet it felt like years had passed. When she was first stationed in Bastogne (y/n) knew he was close by and dug in a foxhole somewhere in the Ardennes but to actually see him in front of her made her heart sore and she felt lightheaded.

When they had first met, his blond hair had been neatly parted and gelled down, silver framed glasses balanced on his nose, but now his face was weathered, covered in grime and blood, his blond hair in disarray and his glasses long since broken or lost. His once clean uniform was now scruffy and worn and the ‘screaming eagle’ insignia was barely visible under the layers of dirt. His helmet rested on the log beside him, the white spade emblem glowing against its dark background. (Y/n) pushed herself away from the tent and followed the wooden pathway towards the woods. The path didn’t follow the whole way to the trees and soon she was trudging through the copper-coloured mud, her boots slipping and sliding as she tried to keep her balance.

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Bob sat on the fallen tree, silently cursing the cold, cursing East Company’s new commander, having had Nelson promoted they were stuck with an inexperienced Lieutenant, cursing the Germans, cursing the whole damn war. He swore under his breath as his frozen fingers caught against the rough tree bark. All of his cursing was silent or mere whispers, as first Sergeant it was his job to keep up the morale amongst the men, a job that was becoming increasingly difficult as they were bombarded with shelling every night. It was during those nights when Bob was huddled deep in his foxhole with Jackson that he thought of you. He longed to see (y/n) again, your wedding feeling like an eternity ago when neither of them had any care in the world, for those three glorious days it was just the two of them. It hit him hard and suddenly - with a deep ache in his chest. He seemed to long for her more now than he ever had before. She had been his rock since Toccoa and now when times were at their toughest he craved her embrace.

Bob placed his hand on his chest, feeling (y/n’s) picture in his breast pocket, it was crumpled and worn, the corners curling over from the hours Bob had spent lovingly looking at her, running his thumb over her face. He needed a new picture, the one from his wedding day. He remembered the photographer telling them both to look at the camera and smile, as if they both weren’t beaming at each other, unable to drag his eyes away from his new wife. He would never forget how beautiful she looked, her makeshift wedding dress hugging her curves perfectly, her hair neatly pinned and her lips blessed with a splash of red lipstick. Bob let out a sigh, a small smile gracing his lips as his mind began to wander, too distracted to notice the approaching figure.

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Bob’s head whipped around as she approached, his shoulders tensed, his eyes scanning the darkness.

“Flash?” He called out, waiting for her reply to know if she was an ally or the enemy.

“Thunder,” (y/n) called out in reply, watching as Bob visibly relaxed as she replied with the correct countersign.

“Welcome,” he stood as she approached him, a wide smile gracing his lips, as she grinned back at him.

“Doll,” he cradled her face lovingly between his hands, running his thumb across her cheek so delicately as if she would crumble and disappear. (Y/n) knew he was trying to memorize her features like he did every time he saw her, it was as if he feared that each time would always be the last.

“Hey love,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she sunk into his embrace. His eyes raked over her frame, not in the hungry way that most of the men did but with a small smile. Her hand cradled the back of his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck before pulling him down, her lips connected with his chapped ones. The kiss was tender yet passionate, full of the loving embrace that (y/n) had been longing for so long and that her letters just couldn’t convey. He pulled away briefly, his hot breath ghosting her skin bringing (y/n) back to the present as his lips began to press along her ear and neck.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He whispered, his blue eyes shining in the dim light with unshed tears.

“I missed you too, Bobby,” she swooped your thumb across his cheek, brushing away his tears. He pulled her down onto the log beside him, his arm wrapping tightly around her shoulders as he held her as if his life depended on it. Bob’s hand brushed over the stack of papers beside him, not daring to look down at them.

“What are you doing out here, Bobby?” (Y/n) asked, watching as his eyes drifted to the paper and pen in front of him, thumbing them between his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m writing letters home.”

“Oh, are you writing to your family? How are they keeping? ” She grinned at him, she wanted a distraction, so to hear the odd story from home was always welcome. (Y/n) couldn’t wait to meet his family when all this was over and when they could escape this hell together.

“I’m writing letters to my fallen comrades’ families, I feel I owe them that much. The army sends them the same bullshit condolences letters, but they didn’t know them, not like I did. I knew each and every man, where they came from, their hobbies, they were my brothers,” his voice was thick with emotion and tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to fall. “You know it’s Christmas soon, hell they’ll probably get these letters right before Christmas.”

“I know you did, Love, I know,” (y/n) let her fingers trace the grimy marks along his neck, trailing loosely along the metal chain of his dog tags.

She looked on slowly as Bob tried to compose himself.

“I understand your pain, I watch the soldiers come back from the front blown to pieces and littered with bullet holes. It is heart-wrenching, to hear their screams of agony. Time and time again they cry for their mothers, and I can’t help them.”

Bob placed his hand under her chin, lifting it so he could look into her eyes. His eyes held all the woes of the world, the pain, the devastation, the love.

He wrapped his large outer coat around her shoulders, trying to shelter her from the cold. (Y/n) let out a strangled sob, her hand fisting into his jacket.

Bob pressed his lips to her hair, murmuring softly. “Don’t you dare think you don’t make a difference? All the men that have been returned to my company after being cared for by you and your fellow nurses speak so highly of you. You bring them comfort in their time of need and you love them in their final moments. The calm you bring is a gift from God. Don’t ever think you don’t make a difference. I may be their brother but you are their angel in the darkest times. You're my angel.”

Bob poured his heart out to her, confessing his feelings as she watched him carefully for any sign of lie as he spoke, but his face never changed, his eyebrows knitted in a firm line, lips moving softly as he spoke.

“It is not a gift. God would not give so much pain,” (y/n) sniffed. “You know you’re kind of my angel too,” she rubbed her hand over her cheeks. “I’ve been blaming myself for so long, every man we lost, each death has stayed with me and I can’t keep it bottled up anymore.”

“You don’t have to, you don’t have to, Doll. I’m here just like you’re here for me. Please don’t ever blame yourself.” Bob cupped her cheek in his large hand, his rough, calloused thumb brushing against her soft skin.

“Then don’t blame yourself either, Bob. I’ve seen how you are with your men, you’d do anything for them.”

Bob nodded, a small smile gracing his chapped lips.

“Would you like some help writing those letters? I know I didn’t know your men that well, but I may have been with them at the end. I know what they said.” (Y/n) took Bob’s hand in hers, running her fingers delicately over his cracked knuckles and squeezing his hand comfortingly.

“I’d like that very much.” She huddled closer on the log, Bob pulled the bag of dog tags from his pocket, fishing out one at a time to go through the names.

With each name, (y/n’s) heart wrenched at the thought of their poor mothers, girlfriends and wives receiving the heartbreaking news. It made her think of her brother, he was in the Marines fighting in the Pacific Theatre. She wrote to him, telling him all about Bob and he couldn’t wait to meet him when all this was over, but the thought of receiving a letter like this for him or Bob only brought further tears.

She dreaded receiving a letter like that from Albert telling her that Bob was gone. (Y/n) couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to receive that doomed letter. Bob must have seen her worried expression because he took her face between his hands.

“I’m here, Doll and I’m not going anywhere. I love you,” he admitted, his eyes watching hers for any flicker of rejection but there was none. You smiled brightly at him, cupping his cheek and running your thumb over his lips. “I love you too.”

Bob pressed his lips to hers, his fingers stroking through her bloody, matted hair, as she held onto the collar of his uniform, gripping it in desperation. His tongue ran along her lips and she gave in, letting his tongue dance with her own. She only pulled away when they had both run out of air, an embarrassed smile on Bob’s lips, his cheeks tinted pink. “I’m so glad I married you.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “I’m so glad I made you mine.”

She sighed at his words, eyes closed, imagining their future together, a house of their own, living normal lives, maybe they would have a dog, maybe they would have a baby.

“I can’t wait to start our lives together, Bobby.” She admitted and felt his lips press against her neck once more. She wanted to stay like this forever but her hand brushed against the papers on Bob’s lap and she realised that they had a lot of work ahead of them.

“Well we better get back to writing those letters hadn't we, 1st Sergeant,” she smiled at him, taking the pen and paper from his grip. He smiled back at her, as she used his ‘new’ rank. The last time she had seen Bob he’d completely forgotten to mention his promotion, too caught up in his newlywed bliss. It wasn’t until she received a letter from him several weeks later that she found out. (Y/n) was so proud of him, Bob had proved himself time and time again.

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Between them, there were 18 letters written and sealed, ready to send to the awaiting families. (Y/n) looked up at Bob to see a relieved smile on his lips. “I may not have been able to help them in life, but at least I can bring their families some comfort in grief.” She squeezed Bob’s hand gently before standing and straightening her dress.

“Well, I better be going back. My patients need me,” she smiled apologetically at Bob, but he just smiled back.

“Please don’t go,” Bob pleaded, his watery eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“I’ll come back, my love, I promise but I have to go now.” She rubbed her hand over his cheek once more before stepping away, following the muddy path back towards the aid station, where she was met with the sounds of agonised screams. Taking a deep breath before entering the tent, Bob’s words rang in her mind as she hurried down between the isles of beds towards the medics.

“HOLD HIM DOWN!” Albert Miller shouted as she wrapped her arms over the wounded soldier. “Give him morphine,” Albert instructed and (y/n) grabbed the shot, injecting the medication into the soldier's leg. He groaned in agony, but slowly his movements slowed and he looked up at her, teary-eyed and with a toothy grin, “Are you an angel?” He asked, his voice weak as he feebly attempted to reach out to her.

“I am, Sweetheart, and I’m going to look after you.” He gazed up at her in awe, his eyes slowly closing as the morphine took effect. The medics began to work on his wound as (y/n) cradled his hand for a moment longer. She was going to look after him and Bob was right, to these men she was an angel.

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